


Repeatable Results

by entanglednow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, Kink Negotiation, M/M, discussion of consensual violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You said you'd stop deducing my sexual preferences."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repeatable Results

Sherlock is staring. Which, on the surface, isn't all that strange, John's used to ignoring Sherlock's special, oppressive, focused sort of attention. But this seems different, it seems rather more considering and personal than his usual staring. John can tell, he's not sure how he can tell, he just can. He's been trying, and mostly failing, to ignore Sherlock over the paper for the last ten minutes. Ignoring him rarely seems to go very well, and today is no exception. Because even when he tilts the paper up high enough that he can't see Sherlock's face, John still knows it's there. Staring.

His tea's gone cold while the staring has been going on, which he's rather annoyed about. The fact that it's technically his own fault is neither here nor there. It's sitting there, cold, beyond the safety of the paper.

Eventually John sighs, which aggressively ruffles several pages, before lowering the paper so that it half-crumples, just enough to see Sherlock's face.

"You might as well just say whatever it is you want to say," he says. "You'll only blurt it out when I have a mouthful of tea otherwise, and I'd rather not choke to death because you have a talent for dramatic timing, thank you very much." For all that he's probably not going to drink the tea, because it's cold.

"I'm debating how best to bring it up," Sherlock admits.

That's enough to make John frown at him across the table. He suspects Sherlock had been waiting for him to comment on the staring before he said anything. 

"You don't usually bother with social niceties like bringing things up, usually you spring things on people when they're not expecting it, like verbal bear traps." Also, it doesn't usually take Sherlock so long to decide on a course of action, once he's gnawed the problem down to the bone.

That gets him a smile, from across the table, crooked and unexpected.

"To be fair if people _were_ expecting it then it wouldn't be as fun, or as enlightening."

John can see a tangent concerning how exactly Sherlock entertains himself at other people's expense looming on the horizon, so he does his best to head it off.

"Alright, just to be different lets go with... _politely_. Because I'd wager good odds that, as usual, it's something offensive and insulting, and I feel like you phrasing it politely will soften the blow."

"It's nothing of the sort," Sherlock says, in a way that on anyone else would be offended. "Not really. Not unless you want to take it that way, and I suggest you don't."

John would have to let go of the paper to squeeze the bridge of his nose, and would likely lose half the pages - but he's tempted. He's very tempted.

"Forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced, considering your track record."

Sherlock uses honesty like other people use blunt instruments, and with rather less care for innocent bystanders.

"Very well." Sherlock stares at his fingers, then presses them together. "It's more of a personal matter. I'm aware you prefer there to be a line - that you'd rather I use a certain amount of caution where our arrangement is concerned, lest I end up with a door slammed in my face. Which you are overly fond of doing, I might add."

John almost makes a remark about him having the nose for it, but he's genuinely interested in where this is going. Even though he can't help that twinge of annoyance at the phrasing, which Sherlock always seems to bungle.

"Please don't call it an arrangement, I'm not a prostitute. And I've told you before, just because we're having sex doesn't give you carte-blanche to experiment on me."

"No, it's not that conversation again," Sherlock says firmly.

"Good, because we've already had that one, and the answer is still no, that's where I draw the line, not after last time." He remembers last time. He has photographic proof of last time.

"I told you that in the future I'd only do it for a good cause." Sherlock's an inch away from pouting.

"You're incapable of deciding what a good cause is or isn't." John thinks that Sherlock considers his own whims a good enough cause, depending on his mood.

"A point we will debate later, but that's not currently relevant. I want to talk about when we have sex."

John's fingers tighten on the paper, not entirely under his control.

"If you tell me you're bored of it, I will throw this cold cup of tea in your face."

Sherlock pauses for a second, and it's nice that John's occasionally capable of derailing him when necessary.

"Not what I was going for," he says slowly. "I was veering more in the direction of a negotiation as a matter of fact."

John frowns, a wary sort of frown, because it's not like Sherlock to prevaricate, usually he'll just say something. This is a sort of verbal caution John's not used to. Sherlock stumbling his way through social interaction that requires him to consider other people's feelings never seems to end well for John.

"What if I didn't want you to be quite as gentle?" Sherlock says, almost absently, as if the thought has only just occurred to him. When John knows very well it's the same tone he uses when he's decided to poke something to see what it does, and there's always a measured sort of consideration in it.

"What do you mean?" He puts as much caution into that question as he can, and then braces himself.

"If I didn't want you to be gentle with me, if in fact I wanted you to be excessively ungentle, repeatedly."

John decides this is definitely not a conversation to be had while trying to read the paper at the same time. He puts it down in a messy fold on the table.

"Alright, that was - what exactly are you asking me for, Sherlock?"

"Aggression, something in the way of restraints, possibly a moderate amount of consensual violence - nothing you would find overly unpleasant."

John blinks - and then immediately pictures it, because he is only human after all - he may need more tea for this.

"I'm amazed how you can just blurt these things out, over breakfast," he says slowly. "And I will remind you that your definition of 'not overly unpleasant' probably isn't mine. I still remember the incident with the razor blades, the piano and the cat."

Sherlock sighs, overdoing it just enough to let John know that he thinks having that conversation again will be horribly tedious.

"That really wasn't half as dangerous and dramatic as you like to make it."

"It's not my fault you have a rather elastic idea of self-preservation," John says sharply. "If I hadn't -"

"You're considering it though," Sherlock interrupts. "You rather like the idea."

John pinches the bridge of his nose, and thinks very carefully about how to phrase what he wants to say next.

"You said you'd stop deducing my sexual preferences." He definitely means that to sound annoyed rather than quietly begrudging. He's not sure where exactly that went wrong.

"I rather thought that was moot once I _became_ one of your sexual preferences," Sherlock says, which John has to admit is probably sensible. Though still not even close to fair.

"I don't - look, it's not fair that you can do that. I've told you before, some things we don't like _thrust_ into the light before we've really considered them. Which, in fact, describes our entire relationship rather well. But, alright, yes, fine, in an abstract sense, I wouldn't - I wouldn't object to the _idea_ of something like that. I'll admit that the thought of it doesn't - doesn't _repel_ me. It's the actual doing it that I'm not so sure of. And I don't know if I could actually hurt you, on purpose."

"You've hit me before, when I asked you to."

John winces.

"This is significantly different, I wasn't - we weren't sleeping - we weren't having sex then. Please tell me you understand that makes it different?"

"Yes." Sherlock manages to sound like a man who doesn't understand at all.

"That was a vague agreement rather than a reassurance," John pushes. Because this is definitely a conversation where Sherlock is not allowed to cut corners to make John feel better.

"I know that it's different." Sherlock pauses. "There's a certain expectation during a sexual relationship -"

John's getting very good at the conversational brick-dodging, where Sherlock's concerned.

"If you're going to start a lecture linking sexual intimacy to murder then I'm going to leave."

"Even if I have the research to back it up?"

"Especially if you have the research to back it up. Dear god, I was hoping for some more toast, and naked people who've been horribly murdered will put me off the idea entirely."

"You're worrying unnecessarily," Sherlock says, and one day John will get used to him commenting on the things he hasn't said yet, or occasionally even thought about. But today isn't that day.

"It wouldn't be the first time your enthusiasm has overwhelmed your caution." Or the second, or the third, in fact John could probably fill an entire notebook, if anyone asked. He hopes to god no one ever asks.

"Yes, and it seems to be the general consensus that I should stop doing that. You've told me repeatedly."

John thinks about pointing out that if Sherlock actually listened for once then he wouldn't have to tell him not to do reckless and stupid things constantly. Or at the very least warn him first. Or have something in the way of a safety net, for when he had to jump out of a metaphorical window.

"So you want me to to let _my_ enthusiasm overwhelm my caution instead?" He thinks he's supposed to be flattered, but Sherlock doesn't do flattery, his flattery always has ulterior motives, and occasionally teeth. It's exhausting trying to untangle the parts of him John _can_ worry about from the parts that he should. Most often because he doesn't know what he should be worrying about until after it happens.

"If you like," Sherlock makes it sound easy, as if he'd never meant anything else.

"Why would you do that?" John asks, quiet behind genuine confusion. "I'm not - how am I supposed to know any better than you?" John's more than aware that Sherlock can sweep people up, make them do things they thought were impossible and insane. Make you love him, against all your better judgment, and sense.

"Because I trust you," Sherlock says simply. "And I'm reasonably certain you're not planning to murder me."

"Reasonably certain - it would serve you right if I did," John says, somewhat peevishly. Though he's rather disarmed a moment later by the look Sherlock throws him, amused and oddly serious at the same time.

"Yes, I think it probably would."

"Stop it," John mutters.

Sherlock is the picture of angular innocence, it doesn't suit him at all.

"Stop what?"

"Whatever you're doing with your face. It's disconcerting."

"I think I was smiling." Sherlock looks like he might fetch a mirror to check.

"Exactly." John reaches for his tea, and then remembers that it's cold, flattens his hand on the table instead, frustrated.

"You told me I needed to practice." Sherlock sniffs pointedly.

"Yes, but not on me. I'm starting to recognise what's real and what's not, and it keeps me up at night." That's mostly a joke, but John suspects it goes over Sherlock's head, which makes it a rare shooting star indeed.

"You told me not to do it to strangers, after accusing me of looking at that last pathologist 'in a funny way.'"

"You were," John has a brief flash of that quasi-nervous smile with too many teeth. "You genuinely looked like you were contemplating swallowing him whole. The poor man was frightened."

"He was barely frightened. You're exaggerating."

"I don't think I am." John realises they've veered wildly off topic, and this time he's pretty sure it's his fault and not Sherlock's. "I'm sorry, what you were saying, about - about what you were talking about earlier."

Sherlock doesn't smile at him this time, though he does manage to look amused, thankfully in a way that doesn't suggest someone would be going to prison later. It's a reassuring expression, oddly enough. John doesn't want to call it safe, it's more of an expression that's not going to end badly for anyone...probably. There should be a word for it, in English.

"Are you amenable to further discussion, later?" Sherlock presses.

John already knows the answer, but he feels duty bound to push with Sherlock. You couldn't just capitulate, or he'd trample straight over you.

"Just discussion? You know I hate it when you spring things on me."

"Though you are fantastically good at following instruction at a moment's notice," Sherlock points out

That feels rather worthy of a scowl, but John's not sure he has the energy for a good one.

"But not actually interested in doing that in a sexual context, in case you were thinking about it." He feels like he should clarify that. "And also, can I please have one area of our life where you don't get to boss me around?"

"I believe that's exactly what we're discussing now, in fact." Sherlock says carefully, then tips his head down and stares at John from underneath his eyebrows. He's getting the hang of that. It feels a little like losing ground, if John's honest with himself.

"Ah, well then - yes, I would be, amenable, I mean."

"Good."

John was definitely going to need more tea.


End file.
